unknown territory
by cedricsowner
Summary: Chance and Guerrero try to figure out how to make out with each other. Fluffy slash. If that kind of thing makes you uncomfortable, DON'T READ IT. T-rated for language only. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.**

_**A/N: Big thank you to tree979 who helped plotting this! **_

So they had come to a realization about themselves.

Huh. Had been startling at first. But after a couple of days and lots of thinking… it _did _feel right.

Question now was how to act on it.

They were sitting on Chance's sofa and "awkward" was quite an accurate term to describe the situation. Winston was out of town to visit an old buddy, no distressed future client had given them a panicky telephone call so far, Chance's enemies seemed to be wreaking havoc elsewhere.

It was as perfect an evening as it would get.

But….

As much as they wanted this, this was unknown territory for both of them, in a very literal sense.

Finally Guerrero got up and went to get something to drink. He had just finished pouring both of them a generous amount when Chance bit the metaphorical bullet, reached out, wrapped his arms around his friend's hips and pulled him backwards onto the sofa.

The plan had been to plant a kiss on the back of his neck and then somehow continue from there, but Guerrero, surprised by the sudden, well, onslaught – nervous Chance wasn't exactly gentle – lost his footing, instinct made him grab the attacker's arm and in the end they both landed on the floor with a thump.

"_That's_ how you do it with the chicks?", Guerrero asked incredulously.

"Course not." Chance clambered to his feet again.

"Then why are you throwing me around like a sandbag?"

"You want to be treated like a chick?" Now it was Chance's turn to ask incredulously.

"Well…" Afraid of sounding like an idiot, Guerrero let the sentence trail off.

Truth was, he didn't know what he wanted. Jeez, and he had thought coming clean with Chance about his feelings had been hard.

To his surprise, however, Chance didn't inquire any further. Instead he pulled him to his feet, holding him by his wrists maybe a tiny second longer than absolutely necessary.

"Let's cook something", he said.

Guerrero raised an eyebrow. "Why not order in?"

Chance rolled his eyes heavenward. "The food is not the point." Guerrero could almost hear him add a "dummy" at the end of the sentence.

"I know a simple recipe for paella." He opened his living-room's door for him and as Guerrero walked through, Chance briefly placed his hand against the small of his back.

Yeah. The food was not the point.

Ten minutes later Guerrero was cutting a tomato into pieces when Chance reached out and lightly brushed a stray strand of hair away from his face.

"Dude, what?" Guerrero hated disturbances when handling knives.

"Thought it might bother you." Chance looked a little crestfallen.

"You've seen me cut up people with a blindfold on!" Only then he noticed the expression on Chance's face.

Oh. Right.

"So how do _you_ do it?"

"Can't compliment you on your dress, bro."

"That can't be all." Chance caught himself almost hoping for the telephone to ring. Where was Harry when you needed him? Wasn't it time for his catastrophe of the week?

"It just kind of develops from there", Guerrero shrugged.

They decided to just have food. No overly frequent amount of light, casual touches, no soulfully into the eyes looking, no over-display of Chance's dimples. Just food. And conversation about that job in Mexico when they had told the Old Man… They had pulled off that stunt more years ago than they both cared to remember, but the memory of the bartender's face when he saw… Hell, it still made them laugh their asses off.

Afterwards Chance washed the dishes and Guerrero grabbed a towel to help. "You smell good", he remarked.

"The shampoo or the aftershave?", Chance replied and Guerrero stepped closer, brought his face within touching distance to Chance's and inhaled deeply.

"Not sure", he mumbled.

His next deep breath brought their skin into contact.

It kind of developed from there.


End file.
